


The Lady Cousland

by NoblehouseofTargaryen (Captain_Shep)



Series: The Lady Cousland [1]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Comics), Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Alistair AU, Alistair Theirin - Freeform, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Domestic Fluff, Dragon Age AU, Dragon Age Origins AU, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Prince!Alistair AU, Romantic Fluff, Slow Burn, Smut, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-03-29 17:31:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3904849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Shep/pseuds/NoblehouseofTargaryen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prince Alistair Theirin, second born son of King Maric, travels to Highever with his father and brother to meet the Couslands, of which the youngest - Lady Elissa Cousland, is set to become a suitor of one of the Princes. Alistair meets Elissa and they immediately take a shining to one another, but when she is brought back to Denerim with them, things take a turn for the worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wild Spirit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [speedgriffon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/speedgriffon/gifts), [Anon_Omis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anon_Omis/gifts).



> An AU idea I had ageees ago, but only just started writing a few weeks back, so I thought I'd finally post it up here after the 5+ chapters I've written on Tumblr XD Regular updates to follow these five chapters!

Alistair Theirin stares morosely out the carriage window, his chin resting on his clenched fist as he sways back and forth, glaring at the countryside before him as they’re pulled along. His eyes narrow further at his brother’s continued chattering, trying to ignore the high whining tone of his voice.

Cailan had insisted that they take the carriage to Highever, complaining that spending so long in a saddle was not only bad for his posture, but hurt his precious ‘royal behind.’ Alistair couldn’t help but snigger at the image of him hunched in pain, rubbing his behind as he stumbled up the steps of Highever.

Their father had gotten to ride properly, like a real King – Like he should have been, but here he was stuck like a damsel in a gilded carriage. His inner groaning and whining is cut off when their carriage pulls to a sudden stop, sending Cailan flying with a slight scream.

“ELISSA!” Comes an exasperated yell of a woman, followed by a deep rumbling laugh. Alistair’s own laugh at his brother’s plight stops short when the thundering of hooves echoes through the courtyard.

He watches, completely entranced as a massive black charger comes racing past, but it isn’t the stallion that has him so captured, as beautiful as the beast is, it’s the woman riding it. She’s riding like a man, completely swathed in rundown leathers with a bow strung to her back, but its not only that that has him surprised.

He watches as she races past, her loud whooping laugh blasting through his ears like sweet music, her dark blue eyes flashing as she darts around the carriage, hanging tight to the reigns as she does. Her hair’s unbound in long, unruly curls that reminded him of the sky at dawn, flames that licked at her waist with each movement.

Alistair’s’ snapped out of his daze by Cailan huffing and pulling himself into the seat next to Alistair, leaning over him to get a good look at the girl. Alistair can tell by the slightly disapproving look on his face that the girl hadn’t had the same effect on Cailan as it had on him.

The carriage begins moving again, and they pull into the courtyard of Highever castle. Alistair trips over himself as he flings himself out of the carriage, breathing a sigh of relief when he can finally stretch his legs and stand more than ten paces away from his brother. His father hides his smile badly behind his hand, chuckling as Alistair rights himself, wobbling slightly before standing still, blushing slightly as he looks towards the two men and one woman standing on the stairs before them.

They all bow, before Maric laughs and he and the older man hug tightly, slapping each other’s backs like old friends. So that’s the Teyrn, he muses, watching the man pulls back, his salt and pepper hair hanging low over his eyes, which sparkle a deep blue as Maric gestures behind him, towards his two sons.

The Teyrn turns to them with a wide smile. “Maker!” He cries with a deep laugh, striding over to where he and Cailan stand side by side. “Last time I saw you two you were small boys, they’ve grown into fine young men Maric.” Alistair feels himself trying not to grin under the praise, but Cailan preens, a wide grin settling onto his features as he clasps the hand of the Teyrn.

Alistair’s next, shaking his hand tightly with a nod, watching the man’s deep blue eyes look him over seriously, feeling the back of his neck prickle under the Teyrn’s scrutinising gaze. The Teyrn steps back with a nod, and Alistair feels like he’s passed some kind of silent test, the thought unnerves him slightly.

“May I present my wife, the Teyrina Eleanor and my son, Fergus.” Alistair looks up to a lovely woman dressed in velveteen, who curtsies with all the grace of a well-practiced noblewoman, smiling at her son as he bows.

“We thank you very much for your hospitality Teyrina; we are hoping that this visit is, fruitful.” Alistair’s father smiles as the Teyrina grins happily, no doubt after his father had alluded to the possible union of Cailan to their youngest – The Lady Cousland

They turn to lead them inside, Alistair marveling at the history behind the place, he’d heard the stories of Highever, about the Cousland’s and their family history, it almost seemed too good to be true.

He zones out, eyes scanning the centuries old weapons that line the walls of the great hall. He’s snapped back to the conversation when the Teyrina’s voice booms through the hall.

“Elissa!” Alistair turns his head to see the same woman from before, her hair swinging as she stops short, wide blue eyes turned to the Teyrina, one foot still placed in front of her, back curled slightly as she leans around the door, her slightly upturned nose smudged with dirt.

The apple she holds is still to her mouth, and she quickly finishes her bite, looking down to her feet. Alistair sees the Mabari war hound, his eyes going wide with glee at seeing the hound there, whining up at her with his tail between his legs, the two of them were so obviously bonded, the Teyrina seemed to be yelling at the both of them when she crooked a finger, beckoning the girl closer.

He hears ‘Elissa’ groan, her head falling back as she stands, cautiously making her way into the grand hall with her hands tucked behind her back, the Mabari trudging in after her, both of them dragging their feet.

“Your majesty, I must apologise for my daughter’s appearance.” The Teyrina sighs, reaching out to try to scrub Elissa’s nose free of dirt. Alistair hides his bark of laughter with a coughing fit, covering his mouth and turning away slightly.

Oh Maker preserve him! This wild thing before them was Lady Cousland! Makers breath Cailan would never be able to keep up, he doubted very much that the lady herself wanted to be tamed. He saw it in the way she rode, she was wild, stubborn, not one that would easily bow to a lesser man.

The Lady Elissa had to be earned, and he knew his brother would be hard fought to do so.

His father has the same reaction as him, laughing boisterously with his hand across his mouth. “Oh Eleanor, it’s quite alright, she’s a spirited one then – just like her father!” Alistair smiles as Elissa’s shocked eyes snap up to meet the King’s her mouth parting just slightly.

He feels his stomach clench as he truly lets himself rove over her features, behind the wild hair and dirt covered cheeks, she was truly a sight to behold. Her features were soft, her lips plump and stained red, most likely from the nervous habit she seemed to have, biting down on them every so often, and her nose was almost regal, save for the child like turn of it at the end.

Her eyes, Maker, her eyes.

They were a deep sapphire blue, endless pools that drew him in with each breath, luring him closer as she turned her eyes to him, her pupils dilating, hiding the small ring of gold that lined the inside of her iris.

Cailan didn’t deserve her that was for sure.

‘And you do, you idiotic git?’ His mind snaps back. He realizes with a sigh that he was right; neither of them could ever hope to hold a woman like that.

“Pup, why don’t you go clean up? We’ll meet you for dinner later on.” The Teyrn says. Alistair doesn’t hear her reply, jumping when a nose bumps his knee. He looks down with a wide grin to see her Mabari prodding at his leather breeches.

He instantly kneels down, laughing as the hound laps at his cheek, chuffing happily as Alistair scratches behind his ears, cooing to him under his breath. The Mabari perks at a sharp whistle, instantly pulling back from him with a soft whine and one last bump of his nose, before turning back to his mistress.

Alistair meets her eyes slowly, looking up to see something shrouding the deep blue, he can only just make out the sparkle of curiosity hovering there, hidden in the right corner. She lets her eyes rove over him, and he feels himself tense at her eyes, then relaxing as a knowing smile curves at the outer corners of her lips.

She turns, bidding them goodbye and stepping out the door, only looking over her shoulder to send him a slow, lazy wink.

Andraste’s ass, he was a goner already.


	2. Ribbons

Alistair walks beside Cailan, watching the greying head of his father as he speaks with Teyrn Cousland. Alistair’s beyond curious, his ears straining to hear the whispered words between the two men, but his efforts are futile, he can really only pick out certain words like Cailan’s name, and things about the castle.

The thought makes him nervous, to have Lady Cousland at the castle with them, to see her walking the halls he strode down every day, it would be too much. Even the thought of her sent his fingers trembling and his heart pounding desperately in his chest.

Cailan hadn’t said much on the topic, merely nodding when Alistair asked if he thought her beautiful. Alistair had almost pitched a fit at his older brother, instead settling for glaring at him incredulously. How could he not be taken with her! To give a simple reply in response to whether or not he thought her beautiful? It was almost a crime to be so flippant about a woman like the Lady Cousland, the way her eyes sparkled across the table at him at last night’s dinner, the pealing laughter at something her brother had said, the musical tone of her voice and the way her lips curled around his name.

He’d nearly fallen at her feet last night.

He was sure his father had noticed too, throwing him amused grins from the head of the table, watching him pining after her like a puppy, wide golden eyes glowing whenever she graced him with her attention. He’d felt it in his chest when she’d retired to her chambers, a deep ache that spread through his body, turning his fingertips numb.

Alistair pulls up short as he hears her familiar laugh, his head turning slowly towards the training grounds. The ache in his body rushes from him as soon as he sees her, nearly crumpling to his knees at the sight of her. She’s crouched within the ring, facing off against her brother, who laughs as she twirls the daggers she’s holding in her hands. Her long fiery curls are pulled back into a ponytail with a long green ribbon, some small wisps clinging to her sweaty forehead as she pants.

She darts forward with a speed he’s not seen before, launching herself up and over her brothers shoulder, latching onto his armour and swinging herself so she can pull him backwards, leaping off his thigh at the last minute to land lightly as he falls into the dirt.

She laughs again, holding her stomach as she bends. He swallows thickly, trying to force away those type of thoughts at the way the leathers she wears bends to cling to her shapely form, the delicate curve of her hips swaying as she moves forward to extend her hand, hauling her laughing brother to his feet.

“Seems like you’ve perfected that move Pup!” Her father calls with a good natured chuckle, stepping forward to lean against the ring. Fergus merely laughs and shakes his head when Elissa beams, her eyes shining with pride as she looks at her father.

Fergus shouts again, banging on his shield with his sword, watching as Elissa’s eyes harden, sinking into a low crouch as they circle one another, her eyes hard and unyielding, watching her brother’s movements cautiously.

Fergus leaps forward, his practice sword swinging in a wide arc, moving to catch her stomach, but she’s moving without a second thought. Alistair watches, enraptured as she ducks, before flipping backwards like an Antivan gymnast to avoid Fergus’ low cutting retaliation.

Fergus grunts with the effort it takes to right himself, circling her carefully as he tries to keep her to his front, Alistair knows if he gives up his back the fight is over. She twirls her daggers again, the silverite glinting dangerously off her eyes as she charges, catching his thrust with her daggers crossed, before palming it away deftly.

Her next movements are a blur, complicated and practiced as she darts forward; using her dagger to flick sparks off his shield, staggering Fergus, before she catches his sword again, raising her arms before spinning, ducking underneath to twist Fergus’ arm, flinging his sword away with ease.

Elissa kicks him square in the chest, sending him sprawling as she leaps forward to push his arms down with her knees. Fergus laughs, his head thrown back as the training daggers dig into his stomach and throat, glinting in the mid-morning sun.

“Ahhh little sister, one of these days I’ll best you!” Fergus laughs as she hauls him to his feet with a grin. Alistair looks to his father, who’s grinning broadly as he begins to clap, stepping forward to stand next to the Teyrn.

“She’s very impressive” Alistair sighs breathily, watching as she moves forward to converse with her father. Cailan makes a disgusted sort of noise, which has him whipping around to face his brother. Cailan stands with his arms crossed, nose wrinkled in distaste as he watches a sweaty and dirt covered Elissa throw her arm around Fergus.

“She’s quite… barbaric wouldn’t you say? What sort of woman fights for fun and rolls around in the dirt?” His voice has the familiar whining tone it takes on whenever he finds something impudent. All Alistair can do is roll his eyes and glare at his brother, knowing without a doubt now that his brother doesn’t deserve her at all.

She was beyond impressive; a true practised warrior with amazing skill and finesse, a talent he knew came with many, many years of hard work and practise, one that only came through determination and perseverance. She’d make a good Queen, not one to move easily on matters she believed to be important, and wouldn’t be swayed easily by the heinous whispers of some of the advisors at court.

He jumps a little when there’s a soft touch at his knee, followed by a small whine. He bends down with a wide grin, hands instantly jumping up to scratch the large Mabari, laughing when he chuffs happily and rolls to his back, wriggling slightly when Alistair leans forward to scratch at his exposed midsection.

“He’s taken a shining to you, it’s curious.” Comes a soft voice. His eyes dart up, hands stilling in shock as his eyes meet the deep blue oceans of Lady Elissa’s, who stares down at him with a good natured smile, laughing as she crouches down beside him, hands scratching at her hound’s stomach. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing! He’s just never normally like this with anyone really.” She continues, laughing at his worried look.

He relaxes slightly, feeling sparks of electricity shoot through his fingertips when she brushes them, smiling when he continues to pet her hound. He smiles shyly at her, trying to keep the childish blush off his cheeks when she grins back, eyes sparkling when the Mabari wriggles again and barks softly.

“Oh hush Fenrir, I give you plenty of attention.” She coos, a loud bark of laughter coming from her when the hound whines and shakes his head slightly. He laughs as well, delighting in the Mabari’s reactions. He’d wanted one ever since he was a child, and his father had shown him several litters bred by the hound master at the castle, but he’d never truly bonded with one like the stories, not like Fenrir and Elissa.

“He really does like you.” She murmurs, eyes curiously gazing over at him through her long lashes, watching with pursed lips when he scratches his head. Fenrir leaps to his feet, moving closer to Alistair to rub against his side, licking wet stripes onto his cheek as Alistair laughs loudly.

“I was just about to take him for a run… if you’d like to join us your highness?” She asks quietly, her hands twisting slightly as she stands, looking anywhere but at him. His heart leaps into his throat as his hands still around Fenrir, watching with wide eyes and an open mouth as she wrings her fingers.

“I-I’d love to!” He beams, leaping to his feet with a deep blush at his stutter, but feeling warmth flood his body when she grins and holds out her arm, giggling when he hooks his arm through his and leads her out towards the fields.

He spent the entire walk to the fields and the forest beyond thanking the Maker a thousand times over.


	3. Fur

Elissa watches him carefully as they walk, peeking at him out of the corners of her eyes. She’s trying hard not to giggle at the silly grin written across his features.

Their arms are still entangled together, and she can feel the faster than usual beat of his heart against the crook of her elbow, the way he tenses when she laughs, the shaking of his fingers when she turns to beam at him. 

She’d been less than pleased when her mother had told her the Princes were coming to Highever. In fact, she’d kicked up a fuss and had left the castle for three days, travelled to the hunting cabin she used when she needed to think. 

It was there that she’d realised she was being unfair towards her mother, towards the two men she’d never laid eyes on. Now she knew her annoyance towards Cailan was justified, her annoyance towards Alistair, however, was not. 

She’d realised the moment Fenrir had padded over to him that Alistair was the type of man to admire. Not only was he sarcastically funny, as he’d proved through his many remarks towards Fenrir as they’d walked, he was handsome. 

Elissa had been floored the moment she’d walked into the Grand Hall - not that she’d admit it. His amber eyes had shined when he’d looked up at her, melted honey circling the ebony of his pupil, freckles mapped constellations across his nose and cheeks, a nose just like his fathers, noble and sloped over the bow of his lips. 

She turns her eyes to him now, raking over the golden peaks of his hair. His eyes meet hers with a smile, and he winks lazily, echoing their first meeting. She giggles, leaning into him as they walk, she turns her eyes back to Fenrir, watching him traipsing through the high grass. 

“Those were some fancy moves you used before, my lady.” Alistair extends the last word slightly, wiggling his eyebrows when she turns to him. She laughs, raking her curls behind her ear. 

“My mother wanted me to sit and act pretty. Once I was old enough to see my brother training, I refused to do anything she said until I was allowed to start training.” She laughs when he raises an eyebrow at her. She shakes her head, breathing deep and tugging on her leathers self-consciously. 

“I think its amazing.” He whispers, squeezing her arm slightly. Her eyes shoot up in surprise, seeing him smiling gently. She’s shocked, very nearly speechless as she sees the truth in his eyes. She’d expected him to be disgusted, for him to tell her a woman needed to defend herself and no more, not to be amazed, to basically admit he thought her skills were admirable. 

“I… thank you.” She whispers, stopping short as Fenrir barks loudly, racing over to them. Alistair laughs at the sloppy dog, completely covered tail to muzzle in mud. She rolls her eyes, but takes the thick ball of twine she’d given to Fenrir, ignoring the thick coat of slobber and throwing it hard into the forest, grinning as he takes off. 

“He’s very impressive.” Alistair says, watching with his eyebrows raised. Elissa smiles, nodding slightly as Alistair turns back to her with a wide grin. She raises an eyebrow when he holds out his arm, but takes it with a blush, feeling the crimson stain her cheeks bright. 

“So your mother let me know that you’re holding a party for us tonight.” Alistair says curiously, grinning when she leans her head back and groans. He watches as she kicks the dirt angrily, her eyebrows scrunching up as her lips purse. 

“I always hated the parties my parents throw.” She whispers, looking up towards the sky, trying to think of possible reasons to get out of the stuffy dinner they’d inevitably have planned. She’d be forced into a dress that was much too tight, and her mother would spend half the day trying to tame her curls, which would end in Elissa yelling and storming off. 

Alistair chuckles as her expression darkens, eyebrows pulling together over her storming eyes. “S-so then you wouldn’t mind going with me… then escaping as soon as we can?” Her eyes dart up to his, amber meeting sea blue, both twinkling with mischief, both thinking this was the start of something beautiful.

Elissa tugs irritably at the large skirts of the dress her mother had shoved her into, trying to loosen the laces of her bodice. She groans as it loosens slightly, sucking in a grateful breath of air, feeling it burn down her lungs, clearing her head as she steels herself, descending the staircase slowly. 

She very nearly trips down the stairs when he comes around the corner, arms behind his back with a broad all-knowing grin etched into his features. 

Maker. 

Gone is the fumbling boy with the wrinkled shirt from their walk this morning, in his place is a Prince. The high collar frames his cheekbones perfectly, the fur tickling against his neck when he walks. Holding the pauldrons on is a thick length of golden chain, matching the glinting belt buckle that holds his family crest. The leather slopes gently over his shoulders, outlining powerful thighs and broad muscles in his arms. 

He looks every part King Maric’s son, and its almost impossible to believe that the man she’d gone walking with this morning was the Prince stood before her now. 

She reaches the bottom of the staircase, a deep blush staining her cheeks as he inclines his head, his eyes never straying from hers as she dips into a low curtsey, the angle exposing the delicate push of her breasts, bound tight into her green and silver bodice. 

“Your highness.” She murmurs, biting down softly on her bottom lip. She watches as one corner of his mouth lips, quirking slightly as he bows, before extending his hand to help her up. 

“My lady.” He replies, brushing his lips across her knuckles. She fights a grin, biting down on her bottom lip to try to hide it, he notices immediately, chuckling delightedly as he tucks her hand into the crook of his elbow. 

“Ready to face them, my lady?” He asks quietly, leaning down to move closer to her ear. She tries to hide her shiver, but fails miserably, before turning her head to meet his eyes, quirking an eyebrow. 

“I believe I am, your highness.”


	4. Remigold

All eyes turn to them as they enter, and her hand involuntarily clenches around the Prince’s arm, desperately fighting the urge to tear her skirts off and run, far far away from the extravagance that was the transformed main hall before them now.

Her mother hand spared no expense, the usual heraldry had been removed, now banners of bright gold and red stood proud, boasting the snarling Theirin lion. Torches glittered, the large chandelier above them stood stoic, candles glinting down, reflecting off the sea of jewelled fabric below. The old oak tables had been removed, replaced with mahogany ones that shone brightly, holding a plethora of foods imported from far and wide.

Elissa had not seen such a disgusting spectacle in all her life.

“This is ridiculous.” She hisses to Alistair, who chuckles under his breath and nods imperceptibly, nodding politely as the men and women around him dip into bows and curtseys. He cannot hide the slight curl of his lip from her practiced eyes, and she knows he loathes this as much as she does, being paraded around in all this pomp and ceremony for the amusement of others.

“Unfortunately, this ridiculousness is something we have to put up with for at least another two hours.” He laughs as she groans, her head tilting back towards the chandeliers, wondering how much trouble she’d be in if she cut the rope holding it to its bracket, and how quickly she could run from her mother.

She peeks another glance at him out of the corner of her eye, keeping a demure smile on her lips as she watches him talk with a lowly noble from the other side of Ferelden. His eyes are tight in annoyance, but she’d be lying if she said he didn’t entrance her.

How was it possible for him to go from the bumbling, stammering boy he’d been through his first days here, to this man now? His hair raked back from his forehead shows off the deep hazel of his eyes, and the noble set of his nose. Her blue eyes hover at his full lips, not realising as her tongue darts out to taste her own, hands clenching around the hard muscle of his bicep.

Elissa manages not to jerk too much in shock when Alistair turns from the nobles, leading them into a far corner near an empty table. She sits down with a sigh, propping her chin up with one hand, laughing as Alistair throws himself into the chair next to her, slouching over in a very un-princely manner.

“Why your highness!” She jests, her voice high and nasally, mimicking many of the snivelling ladies here tonight. “If I didn’t know any better, I would believe you did not wish to be here!” He rolls his head to look at her with a raised eyebrow, and she cannot help the way her stomach rolls in delight at the sight of him, broad shoulders stretching as he hangs his arms off the back of the chair, the muscles in his neck tensing as he stares at her.

“My ladyyy.” He drawls, his lips twitching as she snorts and giggles, clapping a hand over her mouth to still the loud sound. “This is by far, one of the better of these events I have ever attended, however, if a certain lady did wish to make her escape, I would not be oppoooosed!” She laughs again at the drawling tone of his voice, but can’t help the blush that stains her cheeks as he leans closer with a chuckle.

She sighs and takes a look around the room, watching the dancers swirl, swaying delightedly in their slippers as lords from far and wide twirl them about. She wouldn’t be caught dead admitting it, but dancing was one of the only things she enjoyed about these events - that and the unlimited supply of wine.

Elissa turns, seeing him sipping from a goblet of the very wine she’d been thinking of, snatching it off him with a wink when he makes a surprised noise, before his eyebrow raises as he watches her drain the rest of the very full goblet in one go.

She stands, the curls left out of her intricate hairstyle whipping across her cheeks as she holds her hand out to him quickly. “Come!” She cries, hauling him to his feet. “I want to see how Prince Alistair holds up against my dancing skills.”

He snorts, shaking his head as his fingers curl around hers. “I’m afraid then, My Lady Cousland, that I must warn you of the impending doom of your toes.” She grins broadly, feeling her heart skip as he grins back, before leading him out towards the floor, the sea of fabric parting effortlessly as the familiar tune of the Remigold starts up.

Laughing, she drags him into the dance, her long silver skirts swishing about her legs as she leads them into turn after turn, their sweaty hands clinging desperately to one another, imprints of his hands still burning into her skin from where he had grabbed her waist and lifted her high into the air, the contact gone much too soon as he sets her back down.

Dazed and breathless, they stumble back to the corner of the room they’d claimed as their own as the music moved into another fast song, the clapping of the dancers echoing through their ears as she snatches another goblet of wine, the first already gone to her head.

“Your warning for my toes was sorely misplaced your highness.” She grins as he blushes, watching as he quickly rubs the back of his neck, before taking the goblet of wine she offers. Elissa turns her eyes back to the crowd, scanning across the sea of faces, before gasping as she sees one she knows particularly well.

Alistair’s shocked eyes snap to hers as she grabs his arm. “We need to go. Now.” She whispers, her eyes never straying from Nathaniel’s head as he turns in the middle of the dancers, no doubt searching for her, having seen her dancing just a few moments ago.

Alistair doesn’t even question, merely nods and grabs her hand, yanking her from the seats as they dash across the stone floor, giggling and laughing all the while. She can hear Nathaniel’s cry of her name and the shouts of the guests as he elbows through them, but all she can focus on is the sway of Alistair’s shoulders, the way his hand feels wrapped around hers, and the breathless rush of elations she feels as they burst out of the main hall, sprinting away towards the kitchens.

They slam into the room, still laughing as he shoves the door closed. She strides into the room clamping her hand over her mouth to try to stifle her giggles, and sets to work on pulling out all of her favourites from Nan’s hiding spots.

“What… are you doing?” he asks when he turns to see her climbing up on top of the table, tongue between her teeth as she stands on her tiptoes, reaching into the hollow beam for the honeyed mead. She grabs it, and with a flourish, leaps off the table and presents it to him. He raises an eyebrow as he takes it, grabbing two glasses to pour them a glass.

“Nan likes to hide all of my favourite foods to ‘protect my figure’ “ Elissa raises her fingers into the air at this, quoting her beloved nursemaid. Alistair laughs, shaking his head as he gestures for her to continue.

She grins wolfishly, turning to shove aside a barrel, reaching into a sack hidden underneath a cart of apples to pull out a wrapped packet of Ostwick strawberries, as well as a block of chocolate gifted to her from Antiva.

She presses a finger to her lips as she deposits the items in front of a grinning Prince, before she jumps up onto Nan’s workbench, grunting as she hauls herself up onto a nearby beam, tucking her skirts between her calves as she quickly tiptoes across to the thick beam that they all connected to.

Elissa reaches out with nimble fingers to pry loose a thick block of wood, reaching in with a loud AH-HA! before she’s jumping, landing on top of the table before Alistair, holding a tightly wrapped package in between her fingers.

Alistair raises an eyebrow as she hands it to him, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she tries to fight her grin. He unwraps it quickly, his hazel eyes brightening as its revealed whats within.

“Sweet rolls!” He cries with a large grin, she laughs, sitting down right on top of the table, her skirt pooling around her like starlight as she reaches forward for a cup of the mead. He shakes his head at her, a disbelieving look written over his features as he chuckles breathlessly.

Elissa blushes under his gaze and laughs nervously. “I really enjoy sweets a little bit too much, I train quite a lot so I never really gain any weight, but Nan got it into her head that my eating habits would end up rotting my teeth.” Alistair bursts out laughing, and soon she’s laughing with him at the ridiculous situation.

“How…” he has to pause as he takes a deep breath, trying to combat the breathlessness of their laughter. “How did she even get up there?” He breaks down into laughter again, no doubt imagining the old woman trying to pull herself up into the rafters.

“She… she got the elves to get up there!” She manages to say through her persistent giggles. “They told me where they put them straight away!” He looks up at her in awe, his mouth agape as she laughs, taking another sip of mead.

“You really do have everyone in this castle wrapped around your finger don’t you?” He breathes, his eyes scanning her features as she looks at him curiously, hands on her knees and her head cocked inquisitively.

“Maybe.” She replies cryptically, reaching out to pop a strawberry into her mouth, humming as she bites down and tastes the sweet nectar on her tongue. She feels a slow drip across her lip and chin, but before she can even raise her hand, he’s leaning forward.

His warm hand caresses her chin, the rough pad of his thumb running across her porcelain skin, before it moves further, collecting the juice staining her plump lips. Her lips pop open with a sigh as he finally traces them, their eyes never straying from one another, his hazel burning into the deep sea of her own.

She loves the feeling of his calloused finger lingering against the soft skin of her red lips, but she loves it even more when he draws away, his own lips closing around his thumb to suck whats left of the strawberry she’d just eaten off of his thumb.

Maker, she was in for a long night.


	5. Strawberries

Alistair curses himself inside, screaming at his hands to stop as they reach up, his eyes entranced by the slow drip of crimson running from her lips, still stained red by the succulent strawberry he’d just watched those perfect lips bite into.

‘You absolute Maker damned fool!’ He chides himself, hands shaking slightly as he tries not to moan at the taste of the strawberry on his tongue, made even sweeter by the taste that was so perfectly her.

He sees her eyes widen and his heart leaps into his throat, knowing that she’s about to pull away, that he’d lose whatever affection she’d foolishly gained for him, and she’d be lost to him forever. She’s practiced at surprising him, as he’s slowly coming to realise, watching as a familiar devilish grin slowly spreads across her features, sapphire eyes sparkling as she leans forward, her lips parted breathlessly.

He fights the very un-princely urge to grab her when her heavenly lips press against his burning cheek. She lingers for much longer than is normal, he can feel the quiver of them on his skin, the slope of her bottom lip as she tastes him, a soft hum echoing from the back of her throat.

Alistair notes how amazing she smells too, he can smell the forest on her, woven carefully through her hair, the scents of rain and leaves caressing her features as she leans back with a soft smile. He can’t help the blush that burns across his cheeks, trying to hide the trembling of his fingers and the way he shudders at the mere feel of her so close to him.

With another wicked smirk, she taps her nose and leaps off the table, grabbing the delicately wrapped package of Antivan chocolate from the table. He watches curiously as she saunters around the table, unable to keep himself from watching the maddening sway of her hips as she walks.

“If I show you this, you must promise to never, tell anyone.” She whispers. The tone of her voice has his heart pounding desperately against his chest, blood rushing to a place he’d not speak about as images of what she could possibly mean racing through his mind.

He nods breathlessly, feeling as if someone had punched him in the gut when she reaches up to take a small pot from the rack hanging above them, watching as her reaching pulls the bodice tighter, her breasts pushing further up from her bodice.

Alistair shifts uncomfortably, trying to think of something else, anything else other than the image of her porcelain skin, red lips pressing against places he really shouldn’t be thinking of. When she flicks her eyes back to him, pot held tightly in one hand, he instantly realises she knows.

Her plump lips curve upwards into an all knowing smirk, eyes twinkling with glee and desire as he shifts. Maddening little minx, he thinks, unable to deny the attraction between them, he fights against his desire to do anything untoward, telling himself she’s a lady for Makers sake, and she was more than likely just teasing him… or he was taking this all the wrong way and seeing more than she was really putting forward.

She lights the stove before her, pulling the thick mass of fiery curls over her shoulder, revealing the delicate slope of her neck. He bites down on his lip hard, shifting again. Those thoughts are pushed back when he sees her carefully cutting the block of chocolate into smaller pieces, laying them quickly in the bowl with a slight hissing.

“What… are you doing?” He asks, sitting up slightly to try to see into the pot as an amazing scent fills the room. She smiles over her shoulder, wiggling her eyebrows much like he’d done in the forest he realises with a laugh.

“This was something my mother always used to do for me, normally on days when Fergus’ teasing became a little too much to bear.” She laughs, rolling her eyes as she cautiously stirs the slowly melting chocolate with a deft hand, pulling it away from the stove and dampening the fire, leaving slight embers to warm the room.

When she comes back with a wooden bowl and sets it in the middle of the table, swinging her legs over the bench in front of him, he thinks he knows what she’s up to. He grins when she picks up a strawberry from the plate in front of him, dipping the strawberry down into the chocolate. He hums in delight when she pulls it away, watching the smooth liquid drip off the bright red of the fruit.

Alistair’s even more surprised however, when she holds the fruit out to him, one slender hand cupped underneath to catch the run off. He blushes slightly, but allows her, leaning forward slightly to slowly bite down into the fruit. He moans slightly at the taste, the bitter tang of the chocolate mixing with the pop of the strawberry is delightful, and he knows he’s found something other than cheese to request in the middle of the night from the palace cook.

He pulls back with a grin, swallowing the treat quickly. He goes to reach for more, but she stops him with cautious fingers against his cheek. He watches her eyebrows furrow in concentration as her thumb slowly traces his bottom lip, scooping up remnants of the melted chocolate. Her fingers are soft, warm from the fire as they run across his skin.

He knows exactly why her eyes had darkened when he tasted the strawberry juice from her lips when she raises her thumb to her cherry lips, watching in rapt awe as the digit disappears into the hot cavern of her mouth. She hums as she swirls her tongue around her thumb, collecting all of the chocolate with hazy eyes, never once breaking eye contact with him.

She pulls her thumb out with a pop and a lazy wink, settling back down into her seat with a knowing smirk. “Delicious, isn’t it?” She asks softly, voice husky. His hands clench into fists against his thighs, desperately wanting to launching himself across the table to take her.

He’d never wanted to do this before, he was a man just like any other, with desires and wishes for the opposite sex, but no woman had ever truly been able to tempt him like this. If the need arose he’d take care of himself, but he’d never gone further with a woman than heated kissing and pawing.

Elissa Cousland was a goddess in his opinion, and he knew it to be truer with each passing second he watched her sultry pout and glimmering eyes. He feels his lips curve up into a matching smirk of their own volition, his tongue darting out to taste the remnants of the bitter chocolate against his lips as he nods, agreeing with her wholeheartedly.

She grins wider, reaching out for another. “Your mother made this for you?” He asks curiously, following her lead and taking another strawberry, lathering it in chocolate as he watches her grin turn into a soft smile.

“Whenever I was upset, she knew instantly if I’d been crying, didn’t matter how hard I tried to hide it, she knew.” He watches her laugh, delighting in the melodic sound of her giggle. “She’d never say anything, she’d just take my hand and bring me down to the kitchens, she’d pull out the strawberries and melt the chocolate for me, and then we’d eat and she’d wait until I was ready to speak about why I was upset.”

She chews thoughtfully, a wistful look in her eyes as she remembers conversations had across this very table, her much younger and her mother with fewer grey hairs. He smiles, loving the way her eyes soften at the memory, feeling a pang of hurt at the thought of his own mother.

“I don’t remember much about my mother.” He replies softy, hoping to the Maker that the topic of his mother wouldn’t kill the mood they’d set. Her eyes soften, a tinge of sadness echoing in her own eyes, he realises that she hurts for him, his eyes widen as her hand reaches across the table to take his own, smiling gently as she entwines their fingers, comforting him without words.

“What do you remember?” She asks quietly, handing him another strawberry with a grin. He feels himself fall further as he realises she’s pushing him to talk about the happy memories, the ones his father had told him about, the way his heart felt when he remembers the way she used to sing to him at night.

“She… used to sing to me, I could never fall back asleep after a nightmare without her singing to me.” He whispers with a smile, which she echoes, her eyes brightening. He takes a bite out of the sweetrolls near her elbow, laughing at her glare as he rips off a piece and pops it into his mouth.

“My Father told me she used to sing all the time, its why he loves music now, the castle’s always filled with it.” Elissa smiles, her eyes wistful at the thought of a place so full of light and music. “It helped that he kept her memory alive, Cailan preferred to simply forget she even existed.”

Her lip curls at the thought of Cailan, which prompts a burst of laughter from him. She looks shocked for a second, before she’s laughing with him, eyes scrunched closed in glee as they laugh together.

Hours pass like that, both of them swapping stories of their childhoods, Elissa telling him the story of how her father had meant Fenrir as a gift to Fergus, but couldn’t argue with the imprinting process after the Mabari had chosen her instead.

They’re both tipsy, giggling like fools as tiny hiccoughs burst from her lips every so often. His eyes narrow when he realises Elissa’s eaten all but one sweetroll, his fingers twitching as his stomach growls for the treat.

His hand slowly inches across the grain of the table, eyes never leaving hers as she talks, but he cant help it when his eyes flick down to the roll. She notices immediately, her hand flashing with practiced reflexes as she grabs the treat off the table, jumping back as he yelps in shock.

Alistair growls as she laughs, launching himself over the table as she dances backwards, holding the sweetroll in one hand. He gives chase immediately, a laugh bubbling out of his chest when she shrieks and takes off around the kitchen. He follows her, mindful of her billowing skirts as she darts around a pole, her hand reaching out to help her whip around the wood.

She stops with a raised eyebrow, one hand on the table and the other holding the sweetroll high in the air, watching him breathing heavily, both hands down on the table as he eyes her, both of them waiting for the other to make a move.

Her rouge reflexes win out, and she darts away, pushing into the larder with a shrill giggle, but his lumbering form is good for something as he seizes her wrist, spinning her and pushing her back against the door, which closes with a loud thud.

They’re pressed tightly together, the lines of her body sinking deliciously into his. She goes to take a bite of the sweetroll, but he grabs it away from her lips, leaving powder stained against her delicate lips. He can’t help it when he moves closer, the sweetroll all but forgotten on the floor as he presses his hand to the wall next to her head.

Her eyelids flutter as she leans up, eyes dropping to watch the descent of his lips towards hers. His heart pounds desperately in his chest, watching as her lips pucker slightly, eyes sliding closed as he nears her, their noses brushing as one hand smooths across her waist, revelling in the feeling of her curves beneath his hand.

“Elissa!” A voice calls, breaking them from their moment, Elissa flinches harshly, her wide eyes looking up at him in desperation.

“It’s Howe” She hisses through her teeth, rolling her eyes slightly as the man calls again. Recognition flutters through his mind, it must have been the same man they were running from in the Main Hall, who had been looking for her all this time. His footsteps thud closer towards the kitchen, to where their shrieking had been coming from just moments before.

“Kiss me” She whispers, one hand sliding up into his hair to yank him closer. His eyes widen in surprise, looking down at her as if she’d grown a second head. “He’ll leave if he sees us.” She whispers, and he feels his heart sink. Of course, his mind tells him, the only time she’d want to kiss a dolt like you is to get her away from another boy.

“Don’t need to tell me twice.” He grins, trying to hide his crestfallen expression as he reaches his other hand up to cup her cheek, running his thumb along her cheekbone as he lowers his head, noses brushing once more.

He groans loudly when their lips press together, hand tightening across her waist. She tastes divine, a mix of mead and chocolate bursting into his mouth as he shoves her further against the door. He’s overcome with a savage nature at the feeling of her soft lips yielding to his, she shivers and gasps as he angles them slightly, running his tongue over the delicate pad of her bottom lip.

She opens her mouth greedily, tongues harshly exploring as she moans, her fingernails digging into his hair, trying to find purchase as they roll together, gasping for air before their lips are smashing back together.

He could lose himself in her for days, the way she feels beneath his hands, all soft skin and hard muscle, the way she whimpers when he nibbles at her bottom lip, or how her hands twist harshly into his hair when his tongue brushes hers, sucking it into his mouth like a man starved.

He knows she can hear the door open behind them, thudding against the stone walls, but neither of them can bring themselves to care, they’re too lost in the other, every one of Alistair’s dreams of kissing her from the moment they’d met coming to fruition right then and there, and he wouldn’t let some Howe boy ruin it for him.

Alistair doesn’t know how long it has been when they wrench themselves away from one another. She’s breathing heavily, lips swollen from the force of his kisses, and her gown wrinkled at the waist where he’d seized her garment to keep himself from taking her.

She licks a long stripe across her lips, a soft moan arching from her at the taste of him, and it drives him wild. He makes to crash his lips to hers again when a familiar voice calls for her.

Elissa’s eyes widen, darting towards the still open kitchen door where Howe had once stood. Her mother calls for her again, sounding more agitated and angry by the minute. She leans up with a gentle caress to his cheek, smiling as she presses a lingering kiss to his cheek, smiling when she pulls back.

He steps back silently, watching her carefully as she moves like a wraith, slipping out of his embrace and out the open door without so much as a backwards glance.

Maker, he’d ruined everything.


	6. Finery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to spoil eeveevie and anon-omis even more :3

She hasn’t seen him for four days.

The feeling of him burns through her skin, lingers on her lips, the scent of him still worn into the dress she’d been wearing that night. Elissa didn’t know what to do, what to say to him after something like that.

She’d coerced him into kissing her, too frightened to talk to Nathaniel, but also wanting more than anything to kiss the Prince. She’d been able to think of little else since meeting him, and the way he’d looked at her from hooded eyes that night, how he’d been so close she could smell the strawberries on his breath.

She’d never be able to eat another strawberry without thinking about it now.

Elissa had taken to spending more time in the private gardens or sneaking out to the forest with Fenrir to hide away from Alistair, whose dejected eyes had her heart throbbing with guilt every time she caught a glimpse of him before she vanished.

She didn’t know what to do, she liked him, actually liked him. This in itself was the biggest surprise for her, to actually find a man who was more than a passing fancy, with who she wanted more than a kiss and a quick lay – this she knew was real.

It terrified her.

The thought that she had found it, what her parents had, what her brother had, it was almost too much. The stubborn, independent streak she had told her to run, to leave well enough alone and continue doing what she had for the past couple of years.

That was safe, it was easy. But Elissa Cousland wasn’t known for safe or easy, not by a longshot, her mother lamented over that fact nearly every day at least three times, to Elissa’s chagrin.

That’s why she’d woken this morning and ran straight to the stables, riding out on the charger her father had given her for her sixteenth name day, nearly four years ago. She stands now with Fenrir, bow in one had with a quiver resting against her thigh, glaring at the target she has positioned at the other end of the clearing.

Fenrir chuffs again, almost seeming to laugh at her annoyance. They would be good shots, just shy of the center, if she wasn’t Elissa. She wouldn’t settle for anything less than her best, and at her best she’d been able to sever an arrow in two with her accuracy.

She readies herself again, pulling the bow taught, her arms trembling just slightly at the weight of the bow in her arms. She narrows her eyes at the target, touching her index finger to the corner of her mouth as she focuses, honing in on the center of the target.

“Elissa?” A voice calls. She yelps, loosing the arrow in fright, watching it sail over the target and into the surrounding forest. She winces slightly, hands trembling as she turns to meet his amber eyes, gazing at her hesitantly as he twists the reigns of his horse between his fingers.

All the air in her lungs leaves her in a tortured gasp, sucked out by the mere sight of him. He’s dressed casually, his white tunic hanging haphazardly from his leather breeches in some places, the first few buttons undone, revealing auburn chest hair that made her ache inside.

She bites down on her lip, trying to stop the blush from assaulting her cheeks, but she fails, the pink hue slowly snaking up her neck to her cheeks. His cheeks are just as red as he shifts, digging one of his worn leather boots into the dirt below them.

That was one thing she’d noticed too, he’d always dress in well-worn clothes and shoes, never the pressed new linens that Cailan always strutted about in, flinching if he even so much as saw a speck of dirt. She liked that about Alistair, it made her comfortable, as if he wasn’t really a prince, like they were just a girl and a boy, hopelessly confused about each other.

“I’m sorry if I-“He starts, at the same time she stutters out. “I didn’t mean to-“

They both pause, before Alistair chuckles, shaking his head and making his way over to her. She gently sets her bow down, trying not to blush at his proximity, not as close as that night – never as close as that night, but close enough for her to see each individual freckle across his nose and cheekbones, the way his tunic shifts each time he moves his shoulders.

Her eyes snap back up to his when he clears his throat, watching her eyes rove over his broad chest with a raised eyebrow and a very familiar smirk.

“Why my lady, if I didn’t know any better, I would say you’re very intrigued by my finery!” He cries, chuckling when she blanches, before her lips curl up into a ghost of a smile, recognising the teasing tone his voice had taken on.

“Of couuuurse your highness!” Her voice high pitched and very snooty. “I just couldn’t help but notice the hue, is that eggshell? Or is it crème?” He snorts loudly, before throwing his head back to laugh as she brushes dirt off his shoulders.

“I believe it’s called dirt.” He laughs back, grinning wide when she giggles, one delicate hand reaching up to cover her mouth. She sighs a little as she looks up at him, still taken by how handsome he was, the way his hair curled slightly at the ends and the smattering of freckles over his nose like small constellations.

His hand reaches up, trembling slightly as he brushes his fingertips over her neck, watching as her plump lips part slightly, barely daring to breathe as his hand reaches up to cup her cheek, his eyes watching hers for any sign of hesitation.

Elissa’s breath hitches as he strokes his thumb across her cheekbone lightly, tilting his face as he nears her lips, his eyes hooded as he watches her lips pucker slightly in anticipation. Her hands slide up and over his neck, brushing the soft hairs at the nape of his neck.

It feels like the world around her explodes when their lips meet. She arches up into him, one of his arms sliding around her waist to yank her closer with a gasp, fisting the material of her soft tunic in his hand.

She didn’t think that there would be a better kiss than that night, but it turns out there was, standing in the middle of the forest with him, the feel of his hard chest against hers, his hand tangling in her red locks to angle her head, deepening the kiss as he assaults her mouth deftly with his tongue.

Elissa whines, throwing an arm over his shoulder, trying anything to get him closer, as if the press of their bodies could fuse them together, so that she’d never have to be without him, without this feeling that he incited in her.

Alistair pulls away with a gasp, his honey coloured eyes blown wide as he stares down at her with a gaping mouth. A slow smile works its way over her slightly bruised lips, watching as his lips twitch slightly in response. He tries to wrestle his grin back, but before either of them can blink, they’re both giggling, leaning into each other as they laugh, before she pulls them back together, sighing in bliss as their lips connect again.


	7. Mornings

Elissa wakes the next morning to heavy handed knocks on her door, followed by the whining of Alistair as he tried to get her to wake. She giggles, throwing back the covers to rush to the door, feeling her heart flutter at the thought of seeing him.

It had only been a few days since he’d come to her in the forest, but they’d become closer quicker than she’d thought impossible. The two of them were inseparable, and not only just as a couple, but as friends too. The two of them had so much in common it seemed possible, their jokes the same, many of their interests the same as well, they had spent many of their days out of doors, riding through the surrounding country side, climbing trees and swimming in lakes they found during their adventures.

She swings open the door with a wide grin, his balled fist hanging in the air where the door had just been, his eyes blinking in confusion as he looks down at her, all wild red curls and sleepy eyes. His golden eyes zone in on her very bare legs, she laughs as he freezes, his gaze running down the bare expanse of her legs and the freckled shoulder that peeked out from the tunic she wore. She rolls her eyes at his blush, finding his flushed cheeks and fumbling hands endearing. She pulls him into her room, amidst his loud protests, giggling quietly to herself at his stuttered words.

She presses her hand over his mouth to quiet him, watching his eyes soften as he gazes down at her smiling features. She draws her hand away from his mouth, sliding her arms up to lock behind his neck, grinning even wider when his hands slide tentatively around her waist. She leans up on her toes, gently pressing her lips to his in perhaps one of the sweetest kisses they’d ever shared. He hums against her lips, his hands tightening around her waist to draw her close, his thumbs rubbing circles against her back.

Elissa pulls away with her eyes still closed, licking her lips to taste him. “Mmmm, good morning.” She whispers, her eyes slowly sliding open to his dazed puppy face, a goofy grin written across his features. “Good morning.” He sighs, drawing her into an embrace, nuzzling his nose against her hair, peppering kisses to her temple as he squeezes her tighter. He draws back with a chuckle, brushing back a lock of her hair.

“So your highness, what are we going to do today?” She asks, pulling away to enter the washroom attached to her bedroom. She hears him flop onto her bed and grins, imagining him splayed out, arms and legs wide as he gazes up at the ceiling. She hears him humming in though, and she knows he’s swinging his legs back and forth, he always shifted his legs when he was thinking. Elissa grabs a new pair of leather leggings, sliding them on and wriggling her hips to pull them up. She tucks her white shirt in, pulling up the sleeve so it rests over her shoulders, before pulling her long hair up with her familiar green ribbon.

She walks back out to see Alistair lying comfortably against her pillows, Fenrir’s head cushioned against Alistair’s stomach, tail happily wagging back and forth as Alistair idly scratches behind his ears. Elissa stops and leans against the door, arms crossed as she watches the two of them, Alistair humming the familiar tune of the remigold under his breath, Fenrir chuffing contentedly every so often. She feels her heart flutter at the sight, unsure as to why the sight of the two of them melted her heart, and had her stomach twisting in delight. Her whole body felt lighter than air as she watches the two of them.

“My boys.” She sighs, pushing off the wall with a soft smile as Alistair looks up with a grin, turning his head to watch her stride across the room, crawling over to them on the bed to rest her head against Alistair’s shoulder, tucking her leg between his, breathing him in as he throws his arm around her waist, drawing her tight against him. “I could get used to this.” She sighs, snuggling closer to him with a blissful smile. He grins into her hair, nuzzling closer. 

“I say we just do this all day.” He sighs, and she nods sleepily into his shoulder, eyelids drooping as she snuggles deeper against his warm body. Fenrir chuffs happily, nudging his wet nose against her arm, whining happily when she reaches over to sling her arm over his neck, scratching at his ears, before Alistair catches her hand, threading their fingers together.

Elissa starts as a light knock comes from the door. She’s instantly confused, looking up at Alistair with her brows furrowed, shaking her head ruefully when he shrugs his shoulders, before turning back to Fenrir’s ears, scratching behind them contentedly.

She sits up and swings her legs over the bed, striding towards her large wooden doors apprehensively. The servants knew to always wait till she’d left, granted she was almost always gone before this time unless it was a weekend. Plus the guards never disturbed her, and her family wouldn’t have given her the courtesy of knocking first.

She swings the door open with caution, her hand falling off the door in dumfounded awe at the man standing at the door before her.

“P-Prince Cailan!” She stutters, stepping forward and angling the door so he wouldn’t be able to see his brother.

“My lady Cousland.” He drawls, his arms held behind his back. “I hope I’m not disturbing you my Lady?” he asks, raising an eyebrow when she giggles nervously and steps forward again, bringing the door with her.

“No… No!” She almost shouts, before composing herself. “I’m fine.” Cailan looks confused, peering down his nose at her, but he nods curtly.

“I was wondering if you might accompany me for a walk of the gardens?” He asks, but by the way he speaks, she knows theres no room for argument.

“Of… of course.” She mumbles, looking down, before jumping a little as she realised she was still wearing riding leathers and muddy boots. “I’ll, just go change first.” She whispers bashfully, slinking back to slam the door closed with her back, breathing heavily as she looks at Alistair with wide, incredulous eyes.

“Andrastes tits!” She mouths at him, watching as he slowly blinks, his mouth gaping open as he looks from the door, to her and back. He shakes out of it as she pushes forward off the door and towards her wardrobe, hastily yanking off the first semi-presentable dress she sees, darting away to the bathroom to yank her shirt off, trying to quell the confused turning of her stomach.

What was Cailan of all people doing at her door, and asking her for a walk through the gardens of all places! She knew that she had to accept, lest she have to deal with her mother’s scorn, and possibly the scorn of her king.

She emerges from her bathroom to see Alistair siting up on the bed, wringing his hands slightly. She smiles at his nerves, and quickly strides over to him, taking his hands between hers, squeezing tighter when his gold eyes flick up to meet her own.

“I’ll get away as soon as I can, Maker knows I’d rather it be you.” She whispers, sliding her hand up to cup his cheek. His eyes brighten slightly, and he leans down to press his lips sweetly to hers, squeezing her hands lovingly when she pulls away.

“Wait for me?” She asks shyly, peeking up at him from under her eyelashes. He blushes brilliantly, a smile curving against his lips as he nods and lets her hands go, quickly pressing his lips to her forehead as a goodbye.

She feels her heart flutter, cheeks warming as she tries to quell a giggle, she always felt lighter than air whenever she was around Alistair, the sheer thought of being so close to him was enough to brighten her day.

Elissa turns from him reluctantly, dropping her hand as she turns back to the door, sliding out quickly before shutting it, throwing a wobbly smile towards the older Theirin Prince. He holds out his arm expectantly, and she takes it, resting her hand against his arm as he leads them towards the gardens.

She cannot help but wish for the thundering of hooves and bronze hair flickering through the trees.

She wishes for the Prince she left alone.


	8. Petals and Thorns

Elissa can’t help the slight trembling of her fingers against the Prince’s arm, he looks forward stoically, mouth drawn into a tight line as if it pained him to be there. She feels her chest constrict as she walks, each step like a brand across her ribcage, white hot iron drawing tighter and tighter.

Alistair had never truly felt like a Prince to her, he’d always had an air of nobility to him, the product of a childhood of the best tutors in Thedas, but he was always just Alistair to her.

Cailan on the other hand…

He seemed to bloom under the fact that he was a prince, enjoying the privilege that it provided. He was kind she supposed, he nodded to those who bowed, even threw a smile to a few familiar guardsmen. But, he never let anyone forget who he was, preening and sweeping his golden locks off his shoulders.

Elissa was used to some attention, as the daughter of one of the more influential families in Ferelden, people knew who she was, but the attention she garnered was nothing compared to that she received walking with Cailan. It was unnerving to say the least, women and men alike glared at her as she walked, some raising eyebrows and others looking… knowing?

She shakes it off as they cross the threshold into the garden, sucking in a deep breath as she enters the blissful quiet, almost eerily silent compared to the hushed whispers inside Highever. Elissa eyes Cailan curiously as they walk, but she can’t garner any insight from his eyes, other than curiosity about the gardens around them.

“Many of these flowers are Orlesian are they not?” Cailan asks. He doesn’t sniff in disgust like she expects him to - given his fathers distaste for Orlais and its Empress.

“Yes. My mother finds some of them have more potent healing abilities, and Fergus’ wife, Isolde finds them exceptionally beautiful.” Elissa doesn’t stray her eyes from the blooms before her, seeing Cailan drift forward slightly in her peripheral, running his fingers silently over the blooms. She turns her eyes towards the far corner of the garden, eyeing the other flowers that she had loved to spend time under as a child.

“For you, My Lady.” Comes the Prince’s voice, and she turns, her eyes widening in disbelief at the large, overly gaudy flower in his hand, its bright petals almost hurting her eyes they were so brightly coloured. She tries not to wrinkle her nose in distaste, smiling thinly as she plucks the stem from his fingers.

“Thank you, your Highness.” She whispers, feeling her heart drop in dread. She feels she knows what is coming, knows what he’ll say as if the Maker himself had whispered it in her ear.

“My lady, your mother came to my father with an interesting proposition.”

“Oh?”

———

Elissa flinches violently when a hand comes down on her shoulder, shocking her gaze away from the slowly sinking sun before her. There isn’t any malice in the touch, and she can feel the waves of concern rolling off the owner of the appendage. She can’t help but turn her head away at the nauseous turning of her stomach, trying to ignore her guilt as Alistair crouches before her.

“Elissa? You’ve been out here for hours….” He whispers, reaching his hands up to cup her own where they lay limp in her lap. She closes her eyes at his touch, trying not to delight in the way her skin burned and tingled against his own, nothing like the touch of his brother, all cold and clammy hands, with no delicacy at all.

She feels nearly all of the worry and disgust leave her body at his touch, his soft voice as he waits patiently for her to speak, idly running his fingers over her knuckles and the veins of her wrist.

“If…” she pauses, taking in a shuddering breath. “If you had to pick one flower from this entire garden for me, which would you pick?” She asks, eyes opening to meet his own molten pools of gold. His eyebrows furrow comically in confusion, before his features narrow in concentration. He stands, cupping her cheeks delicately, leaning in to place a lingering kiss against her forehead.

She smiles gently, loving the way her heart skips and fluttered at so simple a gesture, his sweet nature, and the bashful darkening of his cheeks as he turns from her still form and steps towards the garden.

She feels a familiar wet nose bump her hand, and she instantly smiles, kneeling to burrow her nose into Fenrir’s soft fur, trying to hold back her sobs as he whines, flopping down in her lap and licking softly at her cheek as she gives him a watery laugh and a half-hearted smile.

Its a few minutes before Alistair comes back, his hands clasped gently behind his back. He shuffles back and forth nervously before coming to kneel in front of her, his mouth crooked up slightly in a shaky grin.

“Before I give it to you… I’d like to tell you why.” His voice is soft, full of an emotion she’d never truly experienced before, and she feels her heart leap up into her throat as she nods back mutely. He smiles breathlessly, one hand coming forward to cup her cheek.

“Maker, you’re so beautiful.” He whispers, brushing his thumb over her cheekbone. She blushes, ducking her head, but his hand is strong, and pulls her back up to meet his eyes. “I picked this because its delicate, incredibly beautiful and soft… but also strong, willing to fight back against those who would come to close without its permission, who aren’t careful and show it the love it deserves, who can’t truly see how incredible she is.”

Her heart skips, skittering bashfully against her rib cage as she bites down on her bottom lip, trembling as his hand comes down to cup her two, lifting them slightly as he pulls the flower from behind his back, laying it gently in her hand.

Their eyes don’t stray from each others for several heartbeats, the two of them desperately communicating with their eyes what their lips wouldn’t say, shining with pure emotion as she forcefully drags her eyes down to see the flower laid against her fingers.

Tears prick at her eyes instantly as she looks down to see the flower, its delicate and soft petals twisting up in the softest shade of crimson she’d ever seen, curling slightly towards her fingers as she moves, her fingers gingerly taking the stem, slotting her fingers around the thorns that dotted the evergreen stalk.

There, poised beautifully between her long fingers, was a single, perfect Lothering Rose.

“T-these are my favourites.” She whispers brokenly, a tear slipping down her cheek as she looks back to Alistair’s cautious eyes. “I thought the bush had died years ago.” He smiles, reaching forward to slot his fingers around hers.

“There was one that had bloomed despite it all, pushing against the black snarls around it. I think it makes it all the more beautiful, don’t you?” He whispers, leaning forward when she nods breathlessly, neither of them even looking at the flower now.

She flings her arms around him, breathlessly slotting their lips together as he hums, his hands grasping her hips savagely, pulling her closer as if he wished to fuse them together, push them into one single being, so they never had to be separated again.

Elissa tangles her free hand into his long locks, her other hand clenching around the stem of the rose, she doesn’t feel the pricking of the thorns as she kisses him desperately, nor the crimson of her blood as it leaks out from between her fingertips.

All she saw was him.


	9. Indifference

“It couldn’t have gone more perfectly if the Maker himself had planned it!” Her mother cries, pressing her hands to her slightly pink cheeks, sighing like a teenage girl in love.Elissa stands quietly, her hands clasped before her as she listens to her mother coo and fawn over her. It should have been the reaction that she was having, but she merely purses her lips and nods, trying to ignore the lance of guilt that rocks her to the core, sending her fingers trembling and her eyes watering. 

She wanted so badly to tell her mother she couldn’t do it, that Alistair was the Prince she wanted, the reason why she’d agreed to Cailan’s request in the first place. 

“Pup.” 

Elissa’s eyes snap up, blinking rapidly to clear the tears from her eyes. She looks to her father, seeing his concerned eyes, the very same colour of her own. 

“Is this what you really want?” He asks, stepping forward slightly when she sighs and looks down, fingers twining together restlessly. She takes a deep breath, biting down on her lip hesitantly. What did she want? Alistair’s wide grin and wobbly chuckle springs to her mind, visions of them riding through the forests surrounding Denerim, waking up to his careful fingers and loving eyes. 

She can’t help but hear her mothers happiness, the way she glows with the news, knowing that her daughter is secure, that she has a future. Elissa knows that it would be better for her family, that Cailan could offer their family much, that the Cousland’s could offer the Theirin’s more. The loyalty of half the kingdom, the support of a war hero and a garrison full of strong warriors. 

“Yes.” Elissa whispers. “Yes its what I want.” 

—

“You what!” Alistair cries, very nearly rushing his brother, wanting nothing more than to curl his fist into his brother’s maddeningly calm features. 

“She’ll be coming back with us.” Cailan states. “I want to see how to the people react to her, and how they react to Anora.” Alistair’s lip curls in disgust, the pure anger that burns right through him sending his hands trembling. His Father had agreed to this, had encouraged this even!

Alistair knew the Couslands were an extremely powerful family, they held the loyalty of a good many people. But the idea of Elissa, his Elissa coming back to Denerim, his home only to be announced as Cailan’s?

The thought alone would be enough to send him insane. 

He felt as if someone had ripped his innards out with their bare hands. He’d go mad if his brother picked Elissa, if he had to watch his brother have her, watch her walk on his arm, become the Queen of bloody Ferelden! 

Alistair knew she’d never be happy, she wasn’t a woman that would enjoy that life, and he knew that as fact. She wanted simplicity, a man that would let her be true to herself, and that man was not his brother. 

“You can’t!” Alistair shouts helplessly, unable to hide the panicked pitch of his voice or the way his fingers tremble as he clutches at his hair. Cailan looks at him quizzically, one eyebrow raised, before understanding, and then sympathy washes over his features. 

“It’s too late brother… she’s already agreed.” Cailan replies, the ever calm tone of his voice was maddening. 

Alistair can’t help the way his eyes flush with tears as he turns, rushing from the parlour and very nearly sprinting in the direction of her rooms. 

——  
Elissa looks up from Fenrir’s coat with a startled gasp, the pounding of angry fists at her door sending her heart skittering into her throat. She takes a deep, shuddering breath, trying to calm her nerves as she stands, making her way to the door. 

The doors barely open before a fuming Alistair shoves the door open and stalks inside. She can feel the absolute fury pouring off him, the way his amber eyes have darkened till they’re nearly black, burning with a silent rage she’d never seen on him. 

“Alistair I-“ She starts, but he cuts her off immediately. 

“Why did you do it?” He whispers brokenly, his voice cracking slightly at the end. She sucks in a deep breath, feeling as if someone had just socked her in the stomach, all the breath leaving her lungs in one fell swoop. 

“Nothing’s certain yet.” She croaks, feeling tears burning at the back of her eyes. “Anora’s still a prospect.” He laughs humourlessly, his hands flailing helplessly in the air, before he turns to pace back and forth across the expanse of her room. 

“I said yes to coming back because I wanted to come back with you.” She whispers, tugging on the end of her long ginger braid. Alistair stops, his eyes darting ups to meet her, and a sharp breath punctures her lungs at the heartbreak nestled there. 

“I was going to ask you!” He shouts, clutching at his hair. “Elissa this isn’t something innocent! This was half a proposal!” She winces at his loud words, feeling as if he’d slapped her right across the cheek, his words so harsh she could feel the sharp sting of them across her flesh. 

“I have my family to think about as well Alistair.” She says quietly, looking down as Fenrir stalks over to curl his body around her legs, hesitant at Alistair’s loud voice. Alistair blanches, his eyebrows furrowing as he sputters at her words. 

“You care so much for what they want? This stupid game that your mother and my father are playing?” He cries, his voice growing louder with each word. “I… I thought you wanted this, wanted me.” He looks back up, his eyes hardening as a mask of indifference slips down over his features, she looks on helplessly, any words she might have said to make him forget stuck in her throat at the look upon his face. 

“It seems I was wrong. Good night my lady.” 

“Alistair wait!” She cries, stumbling forward as he turns on his heel, rushing towards the door before slamming it closed. Her open hands hit the wood just as it slams home with a bang. She curls her fists and begins banging at the polished oak, a harsh scream pouring from her as hot, angry tears slip down across her cheeks. 

Elissa turns, her back thudding against the door before she slips down, her form crumpling like a broken doll as she lets out a desperate, confused sob. Fenrir whines and curls up in her lap as her head thuds back against the door, sobs leaving her as tears wash down her cheeks. 

She doesn’t hear his regretful footsteps striding away from the door and down the hall.


	10. Loghain

Elissa watches with wide, nearly disbelieving eyes as the gates to the city are opened, allowing their rather large party to surge through the gates, towards the throng of people waiting on either side of the road to welcome their King and Princes home.

She watches quietly at the difference between the three of them. Maric, stoic as ever, sends a few nondescript nods when appropriate, barely taking his eyes off the road in front of him as he rides. Cailan however, came alive under the attention, preening slightly as he throws overzealous waves to the roaring crowd, a self deprecating smirk on his face.

Alistair, however, takes her breath away. He ducks his head slightly, and a blush rises to the tips of his ears, but he meets eyes with everyone he can, a genuine grin bursting across his face when he spots a congregation of small children. She sees Maric sigh, but he still shakes his head ruefully, drawing his horse to a halt as Alistair swings down from his charger, rushing towards the squealing children, laughing as a few leap into his arms, giggling as he swings them about.

Elissa can’t help the loving smile that brushes across her lips, feeling her heart leap desperately in her chest as his broad smile strikes her in the chest. Maker he was going to be the absolute death of her, but the image of his torn expression, the hopelessness in his eyes as he begs her not to agree to Cailan, to take him instead, cuts her to the core, and she looks up, blinking quickly to rid her eyes of the stinging tears that bite at her eyes.

She starts as the convoy slowly pushes back into motion, feeling eyes burning into her side she turns slightly, seeing Alistair quickly whip his head back to the front, his jaw working as he grinds his teeth, hands clenched desperately around the reigns. She bites back a sob, feeling her stomach wrench as she watches him kick his charger forward, so he was riding further away from her, his shoulders tight and back ramrod straight.

Elissa can’t help but slump dejectedly in the saddle, feeling her heart sink deeper into the misery she’d wallowed in the whole trip from Highever.

–

He’d disappeared as soon as they’d entered the castle gates.

Elissa watches his broad shoulders as he walks quickly away, hands clenched at his sides as he takes the main steps two at a time. She can see his father’s disapproving look, but she knows he doesn’t care right now, they were both extremely hurt, he probably more so than she, and for her to be around him felt like a dinner knife slowly edging its way between her ribs.

She lets her mother take the lead, staying demurely quiet as she follows behind the servant that was quite excitedly leading them to their chambers. She can’t help but let loose a little smile as the girl chatters animatedly to her, telling her how excited the people were that Cailan was finally going to be choosing a bride.

The castle was magnificent, she had to admit, large vaulted ceilings with slanted windows bathed them in golden light, walls covered with rich tapestries boasting the Theirin crest, as well as low hanging chandeliers that dotted each hallway. It was a wonderful sight, much grander and more decadent than

Highever, but its allure felt empty compared to her home, which had always felt full, the laughter of servants, the barking of Fenrir, Nan’s hellish yelling as he skittered out of the kitchen, rounds of sausage held gleefully between his jaws. There had always been someone in Highever for her, full of light and love for the people around her, and their love for her, Denerim castle felt empty, hollow somehow, as if something was missing from inside it.

With a small gasp she looks up from the tapestry she’d been gazing at to find the overzealous servant and her mother had disappeared around a corner, which she couldn’t say. She hurries quickly forward almost tripping over her skirts as she whirls around another hallway, rolling her eyes as she realizes that she’d stupidly lost the only person who could guide her around the maze that was the palace.

She sighs, knowing she should probably turn back, but curiosity had gotten the better of her at the sound of muffled yelling, it was a horrible vice of hers, the curiosity to know more, to explore where she probably shouldn’t be allowed.

The door before her hides the yelling, and she very carefully leans closer, hearing the deep voice of an older man, his voice laced with absolute poison as he speaks.

“Now that those damned Cousland’s have arrived you have even less time!” The voice spits, followed by the sound of flesh smacking against wood. “You need to push harder, Cailan’s an idiot but he’s still a man, pull him away from the little Cousland, and quickly… before I need to get rid of her myself.”

Elissa can’t help the way her blood freezes in her veins, her heart leaping up into her throat as her whole body tenses. The threat was veiled, but it was easy to see what the man meant, she’d be found with her throat slit by morning if she wasn’t careful.

“Father, you can’t honestly mean-” The woman’s startled voice is cut off by the man again, followed by a sharp crash.

“I can and I do. Fix this mistake, he was never meant to come back from Highever with her on his arm.” He hisses, before the sound of booted feet start towards the door. Elissa muffles a gasp and quickly darts back around the corner from where she’d came, pressing herself tight against the cobblestones, feeling her whole body tremble as the door to those rooms were thrown open.

She can’t help herself, curiosity burning bright in the forefront of her mind as she leans forward slightly, quickly sneaking a look at the tall figure shouldering his way out of the room. Elissa gasps, throwing herself back against the wall with a dull thud, feeling pure terror echo through her body as the familiar face of Denerim’s greatest champion turns towards the sound of her startled gasp.

Loghain.

She pushes off the wall, breathless with anxiety as she sprints down the hall, feeling as if her entire body is about to split into a thousand pieces. He was going to kill her if Cailan chose her, all of this and she didn’t even want Cailan, she was completely and utterly enamoured with his brother, wanted him to be her’s more than anything else on this Maker damned earth.

She rounds another corner, bursting out into a small, outside corridor, a vine encrusted gate laying at the end. She can hear something beyond the high walls, but can’t see anything else but the slight green of shrubbery just peeking above the stone.

Elissa feels a desperate need to be inside those walls, as if something was waiting for her, begging her to step closer and find what waited for her within. She knew she should find someone, should tell someone what she’d heard, who she’d seen.

Her wild blue eyes snap up as the door to the behind the walls slowly creaks open, the sound of a deep, masculine sigh echoing through her ear. Her mouth gapes slightly as she meets the dark amber eyes of the man that had opened the door.

“Elissa?”


	11. Frozen Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I've been away for a very very long time! I went through a really bad depression and anxiety, but I'm really trying to get back into writing a lot, as it really made me super happy! I hope this chapter is enough even though its short, I promise things are ramping up like crazy!

She blanches as his arms come up around her, holding her steady as she trembles. She tries to squirm away from his grasp but he holds fast, large hands burning into her waist and back. 

Cailan narrows his eyes as she jumps at the sound of a door slamming shut somewhere behind him. She's burning up, she can feel the flecks of sweat beading on her forehead and the back of her neck, a single droplet shaking itself loose from her neck, sliding softly along the ridges of her spine as she twists in discomfort. 

"My lady are you alright?" Cailan asks, but his voice is lacking the softness and true concern that his brother seems to naturally supply in droves. Elissa looks up, clenching her hands into fists to hide her shaking fingers. 

She nods, trying to remain steady, what she'd heard could be thought about later, much later when she was alone and had time to plan, had time to think about how she was going to protect herself. 

"I'm quite alright your highness." She murmurs, looking up at him from under her eyelashes, trying to wile her way into leaving. "You need not concern yourself with me." Cailan's eyes widen slightly, and his grip loosens around her, earning her enough room to take a quick step back from the Prince. 

Elissa manages a small smile before she turns, meaning to rush away, but she's stopped by Cailan grabbing her wrist in his, turning her back to him. 

"Whatever it is my lady I'm sure I can help." He says, looking more serious than Elissa had ever seen him. Elissa feels her heart drop into her stomach, she's not sure that anyone can help, that in the entire castle, there was no one who would be able to keep her safe from one of the most loved men in Thedas. 

"I thank you kindly your highness, please excuse me." She whispers, sounding more broken than she ever had, before she pulls her arm away gently, rushing out of the gardens.   
She doesn't know how long she runs for, ignoring loud gasps and her name shouted out in worry, a few try to give chase, but she hauls her skirts up in her hands, desperately wishing for leathers as she pushes herself harder.

She bursts into a back garden out of breath, tears streaming from her eyes as she leans over, gasping desperately for breath as the image of Loghain striding down the corridor flashes on repeat behind her eyes. 

Elissa drops to her knees, hands curling around her waist as she tries to hold the breaking pieces of herself together, fragments slipping out from between her fingers as she desperately tries to think of a solution. 

If Cailan and Maric distrusted Loghain, if she was to push him away from the royal family from inside the family herself, then perhaps he would be too busy trying to win back the King's affection to worry about where the information was coming from. 

She would have to be careful, and smart, Loghain should see her as a blushing bride, with no threat to anymore, bring Anora on as one of her ladies, feed her a few secrets to bring back to her father to placate him, let them think that she and the Prince weren't as close as they seemed, a way for Loghain to place Anora on the throne if Cailan was to fall in love with her instead. 

It was a big game of chess, and Elissa always won. 

She slowly stands, turning around to look at the garden she was in, her chest cracking all over again as she sees the bright vermillion blooms of roses all around her. Alistairs smile punches through her gut, causing her to shrink into herself slightly, her breathing ragged as she tries to force the image of him away. 

She couldn't involve him in something as horrible as this, he was too good, too pure, he needed to be kept as far away as possible. 

She would have to break his heart.   
\---   
Elissa knocks on the door, the sound seeming to echo all across the castle, she feels as if the entire castle is whispering about her, about the knock on a door that wasn’t her own, the rumors of the Theirin's bargain with the Couslands. 

The door opens to reveal Cailan standing in his lounge with a small, knowing smile on his face, motioning her forward. She takes a deep breath, picturing Alistairs smile one last time, before he's gone and her heart is closed, walled off to anyone or anything that might try to hurt her. 

She had to do this, for herself and her family. 

Queen Cousland sounded terrifying to her ears.


End file.
